Tim lay flat on his back and tried his best to calm his breathing, keeping his eyes trained firmly on the ceiling directly above him. He couldn't look down. Couldn't look at the hunting knife that was lodged handle deep in his abdomen.

He slowly moved his hand, trying to limit his movements and tapped the comm in his ear.

He almost activated it, but jostled himself slightly and ended up coughing. He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a soft whimper, desperately trying to force himself to breathe slowly. A minute later and he was able to tap his comm.

"Batman, I need a ride home."

*Is this an emergency? I'm about to have a meeting with Damien's teacher so I can leave in about twenty minutes if not.*

Tim coughed again, lips feeling oddly wet, eyes feeling ever more heavy. He took a purposely slow breath and tapped his comm again. "'Kay. See you in twenty."

"What?!"

Tim was so tired. And twenty minutes wasn't… that long.

"Tim!"

It was getting harder and harder to remember to breathe. To keep his eyes open.

"Tim!"

That voice sounded familiar. He wanted to see who it was. He knew that he should know who it was.

"No, no. Stay with me. Tim open your eyes."

The voice was suddenly a lot closer. He felt hands on his shoulders, then his wrist to check for a pulse.

"Please, Tim. Don't do this to me. Not again."

Tim hissed in pain when the hands touched the area around where he had been stabbed. Then he felt himself being lifted and carried. The last thought he had before succumbing to the blood

loss was that whomever was carrying him smelled like they were wearing Bruce's cologne.

Yyyyyy

Bruce leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers together, stretching them above his head. He'd never been much of a fan of parent teacher conferences before, and he always had a moment of silent panic whenever they were scheduled for his youngest, but he had to admit that he didn't mind them nearly as much when the school had switched to doing them as video calls a few years back. Nothing killed his back more than those plastic torture devices the kids were forced to call chairs.

"I'm glad to hear that you're making friends." He ruffled Damien's hair. Ever since the boy had come to live with him, it had been a challenge for everyone involved to get him used to even the most basic of things.

But now his teacher was reporting that some kids had started a drawing club and invited Damien to join. Surprisingly enough, he'd agreed. He still had some occasional issues when it came to interacting with kids his own age, but the kids he drew with were apparently patient and had taken a liking to him.

Damien huffed and pulled his head back from his father's touch.

"Don't patronize me. That school has hundreds of kids. Statistically there had to be a few that didn't entirely suck. I located them, I refracted myself into their social group, and observed their interactions until I was able to effectively mimic them myself. You gave me the order to be normal. I performed well."

He did his best to sound matter of fact, but Bruce had gotten used to the fact that this was just how he got when he was trying to hide his embarrassment.

"Summer's coming up. Would you like to invite them over to the manor so you can still draw with them?"

"I suppose. Otherwise I'll have to spend the summer with only the company that hangs around here."

Bruce just chuckled and left the room, heading for the batcave. Alfred was already at the large computer when he got down there, going over a few files with Jason and Dick, who was still wearing his sergeants uniform.

"Hey, boys. Jason, would you mind letting Robin patrol with you tonight? I think I'm going to have to help Tim with his grappler again."

Jason raised an eyebrow at his little brother and stuck his tongue out at him. Damien snarled at him in retaliation, which caused Jason to laugh. "Yeah, no problem. What's up with the grappler?"

Bruce pulled on his Batman uniform. "Tim busted it in a fight against Bane a few days ago. I thought we fixed it, but he just called me for a ride home again. I'll be back soon." They waved and he got into the Batmobile, taking off after tapping the screen to pull up Tim's locator. As soon as the map appeared, he froze, blood chilling.

*LAST KNOWN LOCATION*

The bright red notification was stamped on the map, indicating a building that was on one of Tim's favorite areas to patrol.

Quickly, he tapped his earpiece. "Red Robin. Do you read me?"

There was no response.

"Red Robin. Answer."

Gritting his teeth, he accelerated. This wasn't good. How long had it been since he had last spoken to Tim? Had something happened to him after he hung up? Or… damn it! Did this have to do with why he's called in the first place?

He barely managed to remember to swing the door to the Batmobile shut when he got to the building, too busy running inside to find Red Robin.

He didn't hear anything when he made it in. There were no lights, but there was a big enough hole in the roof to let in moonlight. Weapons ready for an attack, he crept forwards, deeper into the building, all the while looking and listening for any sign of an attack.

*This is Oracle. All members of the Batclan, check in now! Just state your call signs!*

Batman stilled. Oracle was always very professional, even now, but he could distinctly hear her voice shake.

Immediately, his earpiece was lit up with everyone calling in.

*Signal*

*Agent A*

*Batman*

*Robin*

*Red Hood*

*Orphan*

*Spoiler*

*Nightwing*

*Batwoman*

*Batwing*

*Catwoman*

*...*

Bruce held a hand to his earpiece, listening intently to the silence that followed. Apparently

Oracle had noticed the absence as well.

*Red Robin, repeat that.*

Silence.

*Red Robin, call in.*

More silence. He felt his stomach drop. Not again. He couldn't lose another child. He couldn't go through that again.

*Red Robin, say something!*

Batman definitely heard a panicked sob at the end of that attempt. He pressed his comm again.

"Oracle, what's going on?"

*Commissioner Gordon just called. He says that some guy just came into the station asking to turn himself in. He told the officer he talked to that he'd just taken out one of the bats. They're holding him in interrogation now, waiting for Wonder Woman to show up so they can see if he's lying, but he called me to check in on you all. Does why one have eyes on Red Robin?*

Bruce didn't hear any of what followed. He swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut so tight they hurt.

No.

No.

God, please no.

This was just another nightmare.

He'd have to find the body of another one of his kids, wake up in a cold sweat, but then see them alive at the breakfast table right after.

But he wasn't dreaming.

He knew that.

Just like he knew exactly whose blood puddle he had just stepped in.

Yyyyy

There was a hand holding his, thumb slowly rubbing over his knuckles. Tim blinked, exhausted and sore, and was mildly surprised to see Dick seated next to him, head bowed, eyes staring off into space across the room.

He looked almost as bad as Tim felt. His hair was visibly tangled and he had deep, dark bags under his eyes.

He must have been worried. Tim felt a pang of guilt at that. Dick had enough to worry about without Tim letting some dumbass purse snatcher get in a lucky shot.

"Dick?" He whispered, voice hoarse.

Dick's reaction was immediate. His eyes went wide and he whipped around, moving to sit on the med bay bed beside him. "Tim? Tim! How are you feeling? A-are you okay?" He sounded almost desperate, and Tim was suddenly a bit scared.

How badly had he been hurt? Had it really been that close? They'd all had close calls before, but this was the first time he'd seen such a reaction out of the oldest Wayne brother.

"Are you in any pain?" Dick carded his fingers through Tim's hair, and Tim found the motion almost soothing. He wasn't used to forms of physical affection, but this felt nice.

"I'm okay. How… how bad was it?"

Dick swallowed and looked away. "You'll be fine with some rest and recovery time. But it was close. What, um…" he cleared his throat and looked back at Tim. "What all do you remember?"

Tim closed his eyes and sighed, thinking back. "I was doing a solo patrol. You… you work tomorrow. Dick, you shouldn't be here-,"

"Tim, no. Don't… don't say that. I'm here by choice." Dick looked almost like the words had caused him tangible pain. "What else do you remember?"

"There was a woman. She… I heard her screaming and went to check it out. Some dude had stolen her purse but she was fighting him off. He managed to pull her into an abandoned building. I intervened, gave her a chance to get away, but… I guess I got clumsy. He caught me off guard."

Dick pulled back the hand that had been in Tim's hair and let out a shaky breath.

"I remember… I think Bruce found me? It's pretty hazy."

"Bruce." Dick repeated, like he'd just remembered his father's existence. "He'll want to know you're awake."

Tim inclined his head slightly, just enough to look around the med bay and see that he and Dick were the only occupants. "Where is Bruce? Is- is he upset?"

Dick shook his head. "No. He's getting the scolding of his life from Alfred, though."

"What? What did he do?"

His brother sighed wearily. "He, uh." Dick cleared his throat and started again. "He kidnapped you, Tim."

Tim sucked in a sharp breath. What? No. Please, no. "There was a problem with my paperwork? Did… did we misfile something? Or-or not sign something?"

"Tim, calm down."

Tim didn't listen. This wasn't the time to listen. This wasn't the time to calm down. "What happened? It's Aunt Kathy, isn't it? Is she trying to sue for custody of me?"

"Timmy."

"You can't let her. Please, Dick. Sh-she's just after my inheritance. You can't let her take me." He was panicking at this point, heart racing and voice going up an octave or two.

"Tim, lay down. Just breathe." Dick pushed Tim back against the bed gently, avoiding his bandaged stab wound, but the movement still made him wince. "You're safe. Nobody's trying to take custody of you. You're okay."

Tim rested his head back on his pillow and closed his eyes, steadying his breathing. Dick once again ran his fingers slowly through Tim's hair, letting him just relax and calm down.

After a minute, he opened his eyes again. "What did you mean by 'kidnapped'?" He whispered.

Dick sat back and glanced over his shoulder, towards the rest of the batcave. He kept a tight hold on Tim's hand, though, like he was sure Tim would disappear as soon as he let go. When he finally spoke, he kept his head bowed so Tim wasn't able to see his face.

That… that was strange.

"You know how Flash and the other speedsters use the Speedverse?"

Tim swallowed the lump in his throat. This wasn't normal Dick behavior. Even when someone was badly injured, he'd never seen his brother like this. He looked… wrecked. Destroyed. Tim wondered if it was because of him, or if something else had happened while he'd been out.

"Yeah? What's that got to do with this?"

"And you know how they're able to travel fast enough to manipulate time and reality?"

"Dick, yeah. I know all this. Context, please." Tim was getting impatient. What was wrong? Had they had to call in Flash to help save him? Had that caused some sort of dispute among the Justice League? Were Bruce and the rest of the adults waiting to scold him?

"Tim?"

He had been stabbed by a low-level thief.

"Tim."

That was a mistake the other Robins wouldn't have made. Nor would any of the other sidekicks.

"Tim, hey. Look at me."

He had been slow. Sloppy. He had made a dumb miscalculation and… and the adults had been forced to save him. Had they been pulled away from something important? Had someone been hurt while they were distracted by him?

"Calm down, buddy. Deep breaths, alright?"

It wasn't until he felt his brother's hand on his cheek that he realized how close he had been to hyperventilating. His heart was racing and he tried to draw in a deep breath, but he just ended up coughing.

Dick once again ran his fingers through Tim's hair, waiting until he had calmed down to continue. This time, he used both hands to hold Tim's hand.

Tim was really starting to worry now. It wasn't like Dick to dance around something like this. Just how bad was his situation?

"The JL has been working on a machine that can do… basically the same thing. They say it's just in case Flash or someone needs help or something. So that we can find and reach them while they're in the Speedverse. Bruce… he took it home to work on it. That's… well, that's what he told everyone. And nobody's going to question Batman, you know?"

Tim felt like puzzle pieces were slowly starting to fall together, but the picture they were creating was… impossible. This had to be a joke, right? A prank? Because that's what the bats did with each other. They pulled pranks all the time. It helped train them to keep their guards up and it was good for bonding…

But then he took another look at Dick's face and knew. This wasn't a prank. There was no humor in his eyes. His skin was a bit more pale than when Tim had last seen him, a few days before. And, now that he was paying attention, he was able to feel the slight tremble in the acrobat's normally steady hands.

"Dick, when you say that this machine can do the same thing…" Tim trailed off, waiting for Dick to jump in and correct him.

He didn't.

"Bruce was working on a machine that can… manipulate reality?"

"He says he was just planning to open a small window. Just enough to let him see into another reality."

Tim looked around the med bay again, taking in everything.

"He says he didn't have a choice, that you were bleeding out. You… you would have been gone before help got to you, so he had to step in."

Leslie's office chair had had a worn patch on the arm rest where Jason tended to hook his legs over. But… now that patch was gone. And, now that he was looking, he saw little things everywhere that were wrong.

The white board they all used to leave notes for each other by Bruce's desk was missing.

Damien's drawings that had always taken up a large part of one of the walls now all looked different. They were still his style, but Tim didn't recognize a single one.

There was a framed photo hanging on the wall right across from him that showed the four boys laughing and play-wrestling, but he had no memory of ever having seen it before. He didn't even remember the photo being taken, despite the Tim in the picture grinning right at the camera, one arm around Jason's shoulders, the other holding an angry Damien off the ground so he'd be in frame. And Dick…

Tim felt an ache in his chest just looking at the photo.

Dick was smiling. He was behind Tim, hugging Damien with one arm (possibly to pin his arms down to protect Tim), and making bunny ears behind Jason's head. He looked so happy. So… normal. Nothing like the ghost of a man seated on the bed beside him.

"This… this isn't my reality, is it?" He spoke slowly, not entirely trusting that this wasn't a dream.

Dick closed his eyes and shook his head. "No. I'm sorry."